<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Geva of Nowhere and the Mandalorian by Koumine (thesecretsavant)</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26743576">Geva of Nowhere and the Mandalorian</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesecretsavant/pseuds/Koumine'>Koumine (thesecretsavant)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Awkwardness, Dr. Audrey Fonda (OC), Enemies to Friends, Fatima Darso (OC), Gen, Geva (OC), Humor, Mandalorian, Original Mandalorian Character - Freeform, Quarantine, Sex Pollen, Trope Subversion, sex pollen but nobody has sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:13:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,922</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26743576</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesecretsavant/pseuds/Koumine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Geva has to quarantine with the bounty hunter who's been tracking her.</p><blockquote>
  <p>“Let’s get one thing straight,” Geva said sharply.  “You may have tracked me down and trapped me in here with you, but until this <em>quarantine</em> shavit is over, you stay the hell away from me.  Or I’ll finish what I started with your eye.”  She left unsaid, of course, the fact that as soon as quarantine was lifted, she would be taking the first opportunity to escape.</p>
  <p>“Fine,” the Mandalorian replied coolly.  “As long as you stay away from <em>me</em>.”  They didn’t add a threat of their own.  Why bother, Geva thought resentfully, when you were a walking threat anyway?</p>
</blockquote>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Character &amp; Original Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>High Council Bounty 9/20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Geva of Nowhere and the Mandalorian</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Heads up, this fic is an incomplete draft.  (Subscribe to me to be notified when I eventually post the finished and polished version as a separate fic!)</p><p>Rated M for somewhat frank discussion of masturbation and boners.  Set in the same universe as my <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/series/1843969">Kai</a> series.</p><p>Written for the Star Wars Fanfiction Discord High Council Bounty Challenge, Sept. 2020.  Join the server here: <a href="https://discord.gg/Z5vfnsX">https://discord.gg/Z5vfnsX</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The bounty hunter found her in the city.  After less of a chase (on this planet at least) than Geva would like to admit, they caught up to her in an alley and the two of them fought.  They were a Mandalorian -- armored in black and blood-red, almost as tall as her, but slender.  Geva managed to knock the knife out of their grip and closed in to fight hand-to-hand, but the Mandalorian fended her off easily and grappled with her for a moment, before somehow wrenching her arms behind her back and shoving her face forward into a wall.  Geva snarled and slammed her head back, and her horns hit the Mandalorian’s helmet with a crunch.</p><p>“Fuck!”  A pained shout, a flinch as their hold on her loosened.  Geva elbowed her way free and ran, looking back as she rounded a corner.  She caught a glimpse: the Mandalorian still pursued implacably, but she had broken part of their T-visor with her horn, and one bloodied eye glared through the jagged opening.</p><p>The chase continued.  Geva tore through street after street, alley after alley, using every trick she knew to lose her tail and trying to think up new ones at every turn, but the Mandalorian never faltered.</p><p>Looking over her shoulder instead of watching her step -- mistake, amateur mistake -- she rounded another corner at a near sprint and crashed through some plastic sheeting and into a low plasteel barricade, bowling over both the barricade and the person behind it.  She heaved herself to her feet immediately, ignoring the new bruises and aches, but found herself surrounded front and sides by a dozen beings in bright yellow hazmat suits.  Some pointed blasters at her; the others wielded scanners and datapads just as menacingly.  She froze, then slowly raised her hands.</p><p>Footsteps from behind, the plastic sheeting rippling as someone pushed through.  A pause.  “Excuse me,” said a filtered voice that could only be the Mandalorian, very politely considering the circumstances.  “I'm with the Guild.  The Devaronian is my quarry.”</p><p>“Fuck off,” Geva shot back over her shoulder, “you have the wrong person.”</p><p>The Mandalorian pointedly got out a tracking fob and it beeped accusingly at Geva, who grimaced.  Well, fuck, so much for talking her way out of it.</p><p>“What seems to be the problem here?”  Another hazmat-suited being arrived, flanked by two others, but even with no identifying features, the one in the middle had a clear aura of authority.</p><p>One of the blaster-wielding hazmats replied.  “These two entered the quarantine zone before we finished sealing it off.”</p><p>The one Geva had knocked over sat up and brandished their scanner at her.  “The Devaronian has been infected!”  They said with a disturbing amount of enthusiasm.  “It’s truly remarkable just how quickly the spore infection can begin.”

“What the kriff is going on here?”  Geva demanded.</p><p>"Please, be calm," the head hazmat said soothingly.  She signaled the blaster-toting hazmats to lower their weapons, which Geva found a lot more calming than her words.  "My name is Doctor Audrey Fonda.  This district has enacted quarantine protocols due to a containment breach in a nearby botany lab.  There are infectious fungal spores of an unknown type dispersed through the air, and as neither of you are wearing adequate personal protective equipment --" she seemed to look at the Mandalorian's new helmet hole " -- you have both been exposed and must quarantine within the district in order to avoid spreading the spores to others."</p><p>"This is ridiculous --"</p><p>"He quarantines with me," the Mandalorian said, interrupting her protest.</p><p>"<em>She</em>," Geva corrected reflexively.  "Also, fuck you, no."</p><p>"...Sorry," the Mandalorian said.  "<em>She</em> quarantines with me."</p><p>"It's settled then!" Fonda said brightly, before Geva could protest again.  Not that it would likely accomplish anything if she did.  No one in their right mind would stand between a Mandalorian bounty hunter and their quarry.</p><p>“Follow me and I’ll show you where you’ll be quarantining for the duration!”  Fonda turned and led the way down the street with an airy sort of wave, and the hazmats closed ranks around Geva and the Mandalorian.  So she curled her lip and followed as she was led, tension prickling down her back as the Mandalorian fell into step behind her.</p><p>The signs that something was wrong in this district were obvious now that she was paying attention.  The streets were deserted, apart from small clusters of yet more hazmat-suited beings scurrying to and fro.  A faint powdery haze drifted through the air.  Spores, the doctor had said.  Was she really infected?  What would it do to her?  She tried to breathe as shallowly as possible.  If nothing else, maybe she could minimize the amount of spores she inhaled, slow the onset of infection.</p><p>High overhead, a domed containment field flickered into existence.  The edges curved down, meeting a series of tall column-shaped emitters that were standing around the edges of the district.  Looking back over her shoulder, Geva noticed that she had tripped into the area through the plastic sheeting sealing the space between a pair of those emitters.  The Mandalorian followed her gaze and then looked at her.  Geva scowled and turned away.</p><p>Doctor Fonda led them to an ordinary-looking apartment building a few blocks deeper into the district.  Another datapad-wielding hazmat met her at the entrance.  </p><p>“We have two more guests for you, Maria,” Doctor Fonda said cheerily.  “Put them together, please.”</p><p>“Certainly, Doctor Fonda,” Maria replied crisply.  Her posture was so rigid it looked painful, even with the bulky suit in the way.</p><p>Fonda gave Geva and the Mandalorian another jaunty wave and left with her pair of guard-hazmats, leaving the rest still encircling them.  Maria checked her datapad, impeccable posture wilting into a slouch, and then said in an utterly bored tone of voice, “You two are in 15D,” before turning and making her way to the elevators without another word.  The hazmats prodded them to follow, and the entire weird group crammed into the elevator together and rode silently -- not up, but <em>down</em>, to level 15.  </p><p>The hallway of level 15 was smoothly paneled in pale gray but otherwise nearly featureless.  Geva heard the faint sounds of people moving around in some of the rooms they passed.  Maria opened the door to 15D with a keycard and waved them in.  It was a shoebox of a studio apartment, with the bedroom, walled-off fresher, and what vaguely passed for a kitchen all crammed together into one small space.  There were two single-person beds with perhaps an arm’s length of space between them, and no other furniture.</p><p>Maria watched dispassionately as Geva took all this in with mounting levels of misery, and the Mandalorian looked around with apparently no reaction at all.  </p><p>“Seriously?”  Geva said.</p><p>Maria just looked at her.  “You must remain within these quarters for the next two weeks,” she said dully, clearly by rote.  “Food, clothing, and hygiene products will be provided to you.  The spores are not harmful, however the effects are not yet fully known.  If medical care becomes necessary, it will be provided to you.  Doctor Fonda will make an announcement when her research has been completed.”</p><p>“<em>Seriously</em>?”  Geva repeated.  “If the <em>effects are not yet fully known</em>, how do you know the spores aren’t harmful?”</p><p>Maria stepped backwards through the doorway.  “Have a good quarantine,” she said tonelessly, and closed the door.  It locked with a clunk and a faint beep.</p><p>Geva turned and put her back to the wall, glaring fiercely at the Mandalorian, who only turned their head lazily to eye her.  Cocky asshole.  </p><p>“Let’s get one thing straight,” Geva said sharply.  “You may have tracked me down and trapped me in here with you, but until this <em>quarantine</em> shavit is over, you stay the hell away from me.  Or I’ll finish what I started with your eye.”  She left unsaid, of course, the fact that as soon as quarantine was lifted, she would be taking the first opportunity to escape.</p><p>“Fine,” the Mandalorian replied coolly.  “As long as <em>you</em> stay away from <em>me</em>.”  They didn’t add a threat of their own.  Why bother, Geva thought resentfully, when you were a walking threat anyway?</p><p>- - - - -</p><p>An hour later, Geva exited the ‘fresher and nearly jumped out of her skin.  (The Mandalorian had taken their turn first, which Geva had generously conceded so that they could treat their injured eye.)  In the time that Geva had taken to use the toilet, wash her hands, and very quietly panic about her present predicament, the Mandalorian had claimed the bed across from the ‘fresher and laid out a small armory’s worth of weapons on the sheets.</p><p>“What the <em>fuck</em>,” she said.</p><p>The Mandalorian looked at her but didn’t even pause, stripping a blaster pistol down to components with a few efficient motions.</p><p>“Where the fuck were you even <em>hiding</em> all of those?”  Geva continued, aghast.  This walking tank, carrying that rifle, those pistols, and <em>all those knives</em>, had been chasing her across half the galaxy, and somehow she was still alive.  Most bounty hunters would have given up and just shot her after all the trouble she had caused them, settled for the lesser “dead” bounty and moved on.</p><p>The Mandalorian gestured broadly at their person and the several visible holsters strapped onto them.  There still weren’t enough to account for all those knives.  “Where do you think?”  They said sardonically.</p><p>“Up your ass?”  Geva shot back.</p><p>The Mandalorian went still.  Oh kriff.  Geva you moron --</p><p>A PA system whined and crackled to life.  “<em>Hello, hello!</em>”  It said cheerily, if a little tinnily.  “<em>Hello everyone, this is Doctor Audrey Fonda.  Good news!  We’ve identified the primary effect of the spores you were exposed to!  You may experience heightened levels of sexual arousal, or odd and alarming sexual feelings.  But not to worry!  It shouldn’t be strong enough to compel you to do anything you don’t actually want to do.  Any symptoms you may have will fade over time.  Continue quarantining as you have been instructed.  Thank you!</em>”  The PA shut off.</p><p>...What the <em>fuck</em>.</p><p>Before Geva could even fully process that, the PA screeched a little and came back on.  “<em>Oh, and by the way</em>,” the doctor added jovially, “<em>if anyone actually does have sex while under the influence of these novel spores, please inform your quarantine building manager so that my research team can do additional testing and scans afterward! … We need all the data we can get.  Alright, have a good quarantine!</em>”</p><p>Geva took a deep breath.  Opened her mouth.</p><p>“What the <em>fuck</em>,” the Mandalorian said, beating her to it.</p><p>“...My thoughts exactly,” Geva said faintly, and retreated back into the ‘fresher.</p><p>- - - - -</p><p>Another hour later found Geva in the so-called kitchen taking stock of their food supplies while keeping one eye on the Mandalorian, who had apparently forgotten to be angry about what Geva had said earlier, though given that they were busy sharpening knife number six, she couldn’t be completely sure.</p><p>One of the two kitchen cabinets was stocked with significantly more than two weeks’ worth of ration bars and MREs, which was a much better situation than she had anticipated.  She would have to find a way to take some of these with her when she left.  </p><p>It was when she reached up to grab one of the more interesting-looking MREs off the top shelf that she started feeling it.  Hands going shaky, palms sweaty and slipping on the MRE package, which she dropped with a clatter.  All of a sudden, her heart pounded and her head felt light, and she staggered, catching herself clumsily against the half a meter’s worth of kitchen counter.  She saw the Mandalorian stop sharpening their knife and look over abruptly, but the sound of the whetstone (an actual fucking antique whetstone) rasping against the blade carried on beyond the cessation of motion, fading slowly like smoke in still air.  </p><p>That wasn’t right.  That wasn’t right at all.  Then the rest of it hit, a wave of intense, directionless arousal swamping her body and stiffening her cock.  If she wasn’t already gripping the counter for dear life, she would have buckled right onto the floor.  </p><p>The Mandalorian said, “Are you okay?”  The end of their question, too, trailed oddly, curving and curling back on itself.  They got off the bed and took a step toward her.</p><p>“Stay the fuck away from me, Mando,” Geva snarled, a spike of sheer adrenaline clearing her head and her hearing for a moment.  The Mandalorian stopped and raised their hands non-threateningly.  </p><p>“Okay,” they said evenly.  “I’ll stay over here.  Are you okay though?”</p><p>Geva took some deep breaths and tried to concentrate against whatever the fuck was happening to her body.  Maybe if she focused on the thought of how karking embarrassing it was to have a starting-to-turn-damp tent in her pants in front of a terrifying bounty hunter who wouldn’t hesitate to shove her ass into a carbonite freezer, she wouldn’t feel quite so flushed through with heat.</p><p>“Is it the spores?”  The Mandalorian asked.  She saw their one exposed, slightly swollen eye flick down, then back up.</p><p>No point in denying it.  “...Yeah,” she admitted.  “Just … I’m just gonna …”  She steeled herself against the awkwardness and the wobbliness in her knees and went back into the ‘fresher, slapping the door switch clumsily to close it behind her.  She leaned back against the cool metal door and slid down slowly.  Wanting to groan, both because of the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, and because of the continuing arousal, she put her face in her hands and scrubbed slowly back and forth.  </p><p>After a few minutes, the intensity of the arousal decreased a little; it seemed she had made it through the initial peak.  But the feeling of flushed wanting, of ardent distraction, still persisted, and she couldn’t even <em>do</em> anything about it.  The ‘fresher had walls and a door, but the walls didn’t go all the way up to the ceiling, as if the architects had decided that no one who lived here would care if their guests heard them pissing.  Or if their Mandalorian bounty hunter quarantine-mate heard them furiously jacking off because some mystery spore infection made them unbearably horny.  Yeah.  The architects had definitely planned for this, and had definitely decided to screw her over.  She sat there for a long time with her hands over her face, taking even breaths, and doing her best to think about anything other than how good it would feel to touch herself.</p><p>- - - - -</p><p>Some time later, neither the arousal nor the resulting erection had gone down, but Geva had managed to achieve a state of supreme, indifferent calm, wherein she laced her fingers behind her neck, squeezed the sides of her head with her arms, and chanted a constant mental mantra of <em>fuck my life fuck my life fuck my life</em>.  </p><p>There was a quiet gasp from outside the ‘fresher.  Then a slightly louder “Oh, osik.”</p><p>She listened closely.  The weird sound-stretching sensory symptom seemed to have faded, so she could probably (probably) trust what she heard.  Which wasn't much more than some slightly unsteady breathing for a few long minutes, until the bed creaked and booted footsteps began to pace back and forth across the small apartment.  She tensed at first when the Mandalorian approached the 'fresher, but slowly relaxed when they just passed by.</p><p>They just kept pacing, pacing, boots shuffling across the floor.  Geva paused, thought about it.  Shuffling, clumsy steps.   The Mandalorian had walked almost soundlessly earlier, like someone who knew the value of stealth and had the grace of training.  Even Geva nearly stabbing their eye open with her horn earlier hadn't been enough to make them falter, beyond the initial shock and pain.  The spores must finally be affecting them too.</p><p>"Welcome to the party," Geva couldn't stop herself from saying sarcastically.  Couldn't, really couldn't.  Was that another symptom?  She knew her brain-to-mouth filter wasn't the <em>best</em>, but usually it was better than this.</p><p>The Mandalorian bumped into the stove, the metal of their armor clanging against the metal of the appliance.  This was unbearably, unreasonably funny all of a sudden, and Geva had to stifle her laughter in her forearms.</p><p>"Shut up," the Mandalorian said, which just made it all the more hysterical.  After a moment of Geva wheezing with the effort of holding back the laughter, they leaned against the stove with some more metallic sounds and started quietly laughing too.</p><p>- - - - -</p><p>“So, do you even know who put out the bounty on me?”  Geva asked.  Talking seemed to help keep her mind off things, as long as she persevered through the occasionally-recurring bouts of auditory distortion.  And the lingering awkwardness.</p><p>The Mandalorian looked at her from the other bed.  “Doesn’t matter,” they said shortly.  “Guild policy.”  Geva didn’t know them well enough to be sure, but the talking strategy didn’t seem to work for them; their voice sounded a little thick, their words slurring a little around the edges, and every so often they shifted restlessly.  That was good for Geva.  She pressed her advantage.  </p><p>“And, what -- that doesn’t bother you?”  She pressed.  “Not knowing who you’re really working for?  Where your pay comes from?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“It’s like talking to a wall,” Geva muttered, before clapping a hand over her mouth.  The Mandalorian just glared and tightened their arms around their knees.  Still not feeling murderous.  Good.</p><p>“Look, it was Corbin Stithulf, alright,” she blurted.  So much for her half-formed plan to slowly tantalize the Mandalorian with a morsel of forbidden knowledge.  </p><p>The Mandalorian tilted their head to the side, winced in discomfort -- Geva could see that much from their one exposed eye -- and then gingerly un-tilted it.  “Seriously?”  </p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“What the kriff did you do to Corbin Stithulf?”  A whole entire sentence.  What an accomplishment.  What a gift Geva had received this grand day.</p><p>“Seriously?”  Geva demanded.  “That’s what you have to say?”
</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Geva gestured incredulously and failed to form words for several moments of mute outrage.  Finally she sputtered out, “Corbin Stithulf is a karking sithspawned piece of living garbage!”</p><p>“. . .Yeah, and?”</p><p>She stared at them, mouth agape, absolutely appalled.  They seemed to be serious.  “Never mind,” she said abruptly.  “You clearly don’t give a shit anyway.”</p><p>- - - - -</p><p>“It’s been five hours.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“It’s been five hours,” the Mandalorian repeated, “since the onset of your symptoms.”</p><p>“Great,” Geva said, scrubbing her face in her hands miserably.  “So great of you to remind me that I have a raging boner that I can’t deal with.”</p><p>They hesitated.  “You should.  Uh.  Deal with it.”</p><p>“<em>What?</em>”</p><p>“Medical resources on the holonet concur,” they continued doggedly in the face of Geva’s dawning horror, “that for Devaronians, having an erection persist for longer than five hours can lead to permanent injury, so you should --”</p><p>“<em>Oh my stars</em> you did not just search up <em>DEVARONIAN BONERS</em> while in the same room with me<em>,</em>” Geva interrupted loudly.</p><p>“Look, I’m sorry if that’s invasive, but despite what Maria said, we have no way of actually <em>calling</em> for medical assistance, so if you <em>do</em> end up needing treatment --”</p><p>“Oh my karking kriff, shut up,” Geva said into her hands.  Her face was on fire.  All the blood in her body was now concentrated in her cheeks and her aforementioned persistent boner.  “Shut up, just shut up, for the love of all the gods in all the voids of hell.”</p><p>- - - - -</p><p>They ended taking turns hiding in the ‘fresher to masturbate.  By unspoken agreement, whenever it was Geva’s turn, the Mandalorian listened to music in their helmet with the volume turned up high enough that even Geva could hear the tinny echoes of it.  Whenever it was the Mandalorian’s turn, they played their music loudly through external speakers, and Geva laid down and smothered her ears with her pillow and blanket for good measure.</p><p>- - - - -</p><p>Geva bolted dizzily upright in bed, grabbing ham-handedly, ineffectually, for her holdout blaster.  </p><p>The PA squeaked again.  “<em>Hello, hello!  Hello again!  This is Doctor Audrey Fonda.  It is now day three of quarantine.</em>”</p><p>She slumped back down with a groan, head spinning.  The Mandalorian slowly lowered their vibroblade and their pillow, glaring at the speakers in the ceiling.</p><p>“<em>We have now identified several more effects caused by the spores.  Don’t worry, it’s still nothing to worry about, nothing harmful!  In addition to the symptoms I listed in my last announcement, you may experience some or all of the following symptoms: dizziness, exhaustion, nausea, altered perception of sounds, altered perception of time, constipation, diarrhea, inhibited gross motor control, inhibited fine motor control, lowered inhibitions, anxiousness, and insomnia.  As I said, nothing to worry about!  Have a great rest of your quarantine!</em>”</p><p>“What the <em>fuck</em>,” the Mandalorian said yet again, with great feeling.</p><p>Geva just groaned again in resigned misery and went to go take another turn in the ‘fresher.</p><p>- - - - -</p><p>“Don't you ever take off your helmet?" Geva said around a mouthful of surprisingly decent MRE.  Day five and the symptoms rose and ebbed in waves.  At the moment her head was as clear as it would get (which wasn't really all that clear, given the exhaustion, but there was nothing to be done about that), so she was in the kitchen leaning against the counter and eating before the next wave hit.</p><p>The Mandalorian was not eating; they never ate in front of Geva.  "Yes," they said.</p><p>“So why don’t you take it off now?”  She swallowed, dug her spoon around for another bite.  “You must be boiling under there.”</p><p>“I’m fine,” they said.  Their symptoms never fully lined up with Geva’s, though whether that was due to the differences in physiology or the fact that their helmet filters might have slowed the initial onset of symptoms, Geva didn’t know.  They were human, probably.  Mandalorians were human, weren’t they?  This one was the right size and shape for it, anyway, and had the right kind of round-pupiled nearly-black eye surrounded by scratched but otherwise smooth dark brown skin.</p><p>“You have been sweating <em>buckets</em>,” Geva said frankly.  “I can smell it from here.”  She had stopped worrying about saying something that might anger the Mandalorian enough to inspire violence at some point; for all the times she had run her mouth so far, the worst they had ever done was glare at her.  <em>That</em> should worry her, that she had let her guard down that far, but it was hard to muster up the energy for much more than just existing.</p><p>The Mandalorian looked at her then.  Another glare?  Hard to tell.  Their stomach rumbled a little, and they draped their arm loosely around it in a way that was probably supposed to look casual.</p><p>“What?”  Geva said.</p><p>“I don’t take my helmet off in front of quarries,” they said finally.</p><p>Geva grimaced and didn’t say anything else.  It wasn’t as though she had forgotten her situation, but it was easy after a lifetime of practice to push that panic-inducing thought into the background and act as though this were an opportunity instead of a delayed debacle.  She had been almost treating the Mandalorian like a mark, like she had these two weeks to slowly bring them around to her side, but she knew better  -- she <em>knew better</em> than to think she had any chance there.</p><p>She took her time finishing the meal so that she would have a reason to stay at the other end of the apartment for a while.  </p><p>- - - - -</p><p>But why <em>shouldn’t</em> she treat the Mandalorian like a mark?  At seven days, or eight, she wasn’t sure -- she still hadn’t come up with any other truly viable plan to escape after the quarantine was over.  Every waking moment that she could focus on thoughts beyond the severest effects of the spores, she set her mind to the problem, ignoring dizziness and discomfort, ignoring the faint echoed-warped banging of the neighbor’s bed against the adjoining wall, surreptitiously observing the Mandalorian whenever she could.  </p><p>As soon as quarantine was lifted, their effective truce would end as well, and the Mandalorian would happily draw a weapon on her, cuff her, and march her out of there.  That was unavoidable.  She wasn’t stupid or arrogant enough to think that she could beat a Mandalorian at any kind of fight -- it must have been dumb luck that she had even disarmed them when they fought in the alley.  </p><p>After leaving quarantine, the Mandalorian would take her to their ship, meet up with the comrades that were probably waiting for them, and freeze her in carbonite, at which point her chances of escaping, let alone escaping <em>alive</em>, would effectively drop to zero.  </p><p>The only chance she had was to make a break for it between the quarantine building and the ship.  But considering that the Mandalorian had already tracked her down and caught her once when she had had more advantages at hand, she just couldn’t figure out how to make it actually <em>work</em>.  </p><p>Unless she played to her strengths and tried to <em>convince </em>them to take her side instead. </p><p>- - - - -</p><p>The Mandalorian spent most of day nine in the ‘fresher, alternately retching and swearing.  Geva spent most of day nine either unconscious or too dizzy to even contemplate moving.</p><p>- - - - -</p><p>Day ten, but Geva only knew it because the head hazmat had said so in the most recent announcement.  She lay curled up pathetically in the narrow, too-short bed, hugging her pillow to her chest, eyes closed but unable to sleep.</p><p>“I’m sorry for misgendering you,” the Mandalorian said unexpectedly.  </p><p>Geva blinked across at the other bed, nonplussed.  The Mandalorian was curled up on their side too, almost mirroring Geva.  “You, uh…”  She wasn’t sure what to say.  “You already apologized for that.”</p><p>“I know,” they said, “but I should know better.”  They shifted minutely, just a quick glance away and a flex of their fingers.  “My <em>buire</em> taught me better than that,” they muttered.  Cleared their throat, continued: “So, I’m sorry.  Should have asked for your pronouns.”</p><p>“Huh,” Geva said, then, reflexively, “apology accepted.”  She felt thrown by the whole situation, like she had missed a step in a dance and was trying to find her place again.  She imagined, then, if that first meeting in the alley had gone differently, and started to giggle despite herself.  “There -- haha, there wasn’t exactly time for you to ask,” she laughed.  “While we were fighting?  While you -- ” She broke off, trying to smother the rising giggles in her pillow.</p><p>“While I chased you through the streets?”  The Mandalorian added, starting to laugh too.  “Like ‘HEY BY THE WAY WHAT ARE YOUR PRONOUNS?’”  They raised a hand as though to cover their mouth, but with their helmet still on it just looked ridiculous.</p><p>Geva gasped in a breath to wheeze out, “As I’m running away from you -- ‘SHE HER HERS ASSHOLE NOW FUCK OFF!’”  </p><p>“‘SAME, NOW STOP RUNNING SO I CAN ARREST YOU.’”</p><p>Geva laughed so hard she wheezed and got a little light-headed, but once she had started, it felt impossible to stop.  The Mandalorian accompanied her quietly but genuinely, clutching her abdomen as she shook with it and occasionally making little snorting noises.  </p><p>- - - - -</p><p>“<em>Hello, hello!  Hello again!  This is Doctor Audrey Fonda.  It is now day eleven of quarantine.  You’ve made it this far, so <span class="u">keep it up</span>!  (Haha.)  I just want to take a moment to thank you all for your participation.  Thank you.  You’ve contributed <strong>so</strong> much to my research.”</em></p><p>- - - - -</p><p>“If I weren’t your <em>quarry</em>, would you take off the helmet in front of me?”</p><p>“If I did, would you try to poke my eye out again?”</p><p>“That was unintentional and also <em>you were trying to kidnap me.</em>”</p><p>“...So is that a no?”</p><p>“Yeah, asshole, it’s a no.”</p><p>“Then yeah.  Asshole.”</p><p>- - - - -</p><p>“<em>Hello, hello!  Hello again!  This is Doctor Audrey Fonda.  It is now day thirteen of quarantine.  I’m afraid I have some … unfortunate news.  Oh, it’s still nothing to worry about!  Please do not be alarmed.  My research team has discovered that the spore infection remains contagious for at least three weeks after the initial onset of symptoms, so we require you to quarantine for another week.  Don’t worry!  All your needs will still be provided for during this time.</em>”</p><p>“Are you <em>fucking</em> kidding me,” the Mandalorian said from inside the ‘fresher, where they were taking their meal.</p><p>Geva abruptly lost her appetite and put her half-finished MRE down on the shared bedside table.  Something wasn’t right.</p><p>- - - - -</p><p>“So what’s your story, then?”  The Mandalorian asked, midway through week three.  Neither of them had had any symptoms for days.  The Mandalorian had started to do simple but vigorous exercises in the kitchen, while Geva pretended to be completely unimpressed by how many fully armored pushups she could do in a row.  </p><p>“My story?”</p><p>The Mandalorian paused in the middle of a sit-up, holding her torso at an angle with apparently zero effort.  “You said Corbin Stithulf put out the bounty on you,” she explained.  “Say I believe you.  So what’s your side of the story then?”</p><p>Geva frowned at her over her datapad; she had been trying to find the apartment building’s floor plan on the holonet.  “Are you actually going to listen this time?”  She said, more sharply than she intended.  The last time she had tried to explain her situation, the Mandalorian had presented an immovable stone wall.  But this time...</p><p>“Yes,” the Mandalorian replied, and sat up all the way, apparently ready to listen.</p><p>Geva put down her datapad and explained.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There are (subtle) references to the musical <em>Next to Normal</em> in Dr. Fonda’s PA messages.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>